To Keep A Secret
by Nyita7
Summary: Danny Phantom's being followed by the same gang of ghosts, and they are weakening him greatly. When he is weakened by ghosts in front of school, and the nurse checks him over, she finds something unusual... VERY unusual...
1. Prologue

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**Prologue**

"_Do you think it wise, master, to be so trusting upon this one boy? He is merely a half ghost, his other half mortal at that."_

"_Be patient, Arravak. The time is drawing closer, I can sense it. He will not disappoint us."_

"_Master, I feel you speaking the truth. However, I have to ask, why must we wait for this boy? He may not be alive at all, not when we need him to be so. I have sensed more dangers coming his way, and, well-"_

"_Do you think I do not know, Arravak? I know all that has happened to that boy in the past fifteen years of his young life, and I am sure I sense also new fears facing him. Perhaps he will not make it, or perhaps that theory is wrong."_

"_You would not tell me, I wager, either way."_

"_No."_

"_But, master-"_

"_Perhaps if you were put in charge of many a life, you would understand the consequences of letting another know time's secrets. Even knowledge can be fatal. You, at least, should know that."_

"_I understand. But the dangers I sense- and you too, of course- are different. Almost- well, set up to mock the boy. Are they- are they connected with the boy's uncle?"_

"_Arravak, I do not wish to disclose anything else. I will say only this: that man will never be the boy's uncle. It makes me laugh... almost. Young Daniel has better chance for life than with him. Believe me, that is valuable information… very, very valuable, indeed."_

"_Yes, of course."_

_The ghost turned around and floated slowly away from the room, deep in thought. The master had made mistakes in the past… but the past was just another piece in the puzzle to him… an ever-growing jigsaw of eternity. He said everything would smooth over in time..._

_But if he was wrong…_

Uncountable miles of thought and time away, a fifteen-year-old ghost fell out of his bed with a start, as he found himself staring into a pair of glowing red eyes, blinking at him, glaring. Then they vanished.

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	2. Chapter 2

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Thank You for the reviews!! Just thought I'd add this in the first chap...

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To Keep A Secret

Chapter 1

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For the third time in as many days, Danny Fenton was attacked by three ghosts. 

These weren't random ghosts. It was the same gang, each time: two girls and a guy. The women were identical. They had long, tattered robes, glowing eerily green, and eyes that sparkled like dangerous waters in a dead sea. An _evil_ dead sea. To anyone other than ghosts, the eyes would burn into the soul and suck the breath out of their enemies (figuratively). They would be the living dead, in a way, because they were still able to function as an alive being, yet they would be utterly empty of anything. It would be better to be dead. However, they hardly met any humans while in the Ghost Zone, and their attacks were completely useless normally.

The man's appearance was nothing short of tramp-like. He wore baggy, green overalls, and had a liberal amount of dirt and dust covering his shabby coat. An eternity of prowling around the ghost zone had made him invulnerable to many attacks. Although he was not gifted with powers of his own, the toughness was like a shield. He was the perfect barrier, or distraction.

The ghosts had been especially selected by Vlad Masters, or 'Plasmius', which he preferred. Vlad was one of the sworn enemies of Danny, and he had made it his mission to either train the boy, keeping him as his own, or destroy him.

Although, maybe not, if it upset Danny's mom. The father he couldn't care less about.

The ghosts were almost completely useless when trying to get jobs elsewhere. They didn't have truly special skills, and were not really experienced. Les Souers de l'âme, as the women's title went, didn't really turn out to be that popular, and it was by luck that everyone banded together with Vlad. He managed to set them up with a kick-butt job trailing Danny. The pay was good, too. But the better part was that he managed to let them out of the Ghost Portal every once in a while.

Now was one of those times.

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"Hey, Danny, you doin' anything tonight? Like with your folks? 'Cause you could come to my house. I just got that new game, it's awesome, but it's two players for the better parts," Danny's best friend Tucker said to him enthusiastically. 

"I don't know, but I think Gran and Grandpa Fenton are coming. They were supposed to last week, but, you know, there was that plane delay," he replied with a casual shrug.

"Oh well. At least Sam'll come, right?" Tucker asked, pulling Sam back by her elbow and looking at her with pleading eyes. "Ah, come on, Sam. Or we could take it to your house, you've got that killer system…"

Sam looked at him almost pityingly. "What _is_ it with you guys and those stupid games? I mean, all you ever do is fight computer-generated images of highly coloured and kind of stupid-looking people. Or monsters. Or whatever. And the images aren't even that _good_…" she paused, shut out by the conversation that had started up between the two guys while she had been talking. She tried again.

"…And you, Danny. I'd think you'd be kind of tired of all those ghosts and stuff. You fight evil, like, on a daily basis, practically." She flinched as she saw Danny's hand shoot up in front of her face, and cover her mouth.

"_Keep it down_," he muttered. "We're at school already." He didn't remove his hand for a couple of seconds, but in those seconds, Sam was thinking about his soft, soft hand, how it was so cool and firm… but didn't that counteract with soft? She didn't feel herself blushing until Danny's hand moved away, when the chill of the November air brushed past her flaming cheeks. She felt kind of embarrassed at her reaction, and muttered, "_Stupid hormones_…"

The three teens sloped up the stone steps to the school's main entrance. They stood in the doorway, safe from the rain that had started to fall. For the moment.

"Hey, _Fenton_."

Danny froze. Not because of the cold.

Dash was coming up to him, flanked by his jock friends. Kwan and another kid, Jamie, grabbed Danny and Tucker by the shoulders, and pushed them off the steps. They went sprawling into the tangle of bushes, quickly soaked by the wet leaves. Sam looked at them fall, and felt two hands pinch her shoulders, too. She wasn't pushed down, but was lifted up and flopped on the ground, next to the bush.

The three of them gazed reproachfully up at Dash and the others. The jocks turned around and started talking about the upcoming Winter Dance a month from next week, and the girls 'waiting in line for him'. Sam rolled her eyes, and grabbed Tucker and Danny's hands, pulling them out of the thorny branches.

"Jeez, Danny, you should at least let them have an _accident_." Sam sighed.

"Yeah, make 'em fall like us, or at least-" Tucker racked his brains for something good enough. "I don't know. Just… a failed test? Missing gym clothes? Something small, yet… um, well, revenge-ish."

"Guys, I couldn't. I'm not like that. Last year… well, I was experimenting. Now, I think, I'm better, 'cause I know what I will become if I slip up."

"Danny, that was stealing important test answers. That was bad, and it didn't really end up happening, right? Dash and his friends have been picking on you- on _us_- since grade school. I think its time we did something about that."

Danny looked at his friends' faces. Sam's was flushed, he supposed because of her determinedness on the subject. Tucker was shaking his head, looking up at the jocks and sighing heavily. Danny wondered whether he should tell them about that dream he's had that morning... but as soon as he opened his mouth Tucker spoke.

"C'mon," he said expressionlessly. "We'd… better go in, I guess. The bell's gonna ring in a second." He started walking towards another group of students, being pushed into the building through the side entrance. Danny and Sam followed. One of their teachers, Mr. Lancer, was chivvying the kids in quickly. His face was screwed up as he looked up at the three teens, trying to keep the rain from getting in his eyes.

"You might want to hurry up, Mr Fenton, Mr. Foley, and you, Miss Manson... I'm not going to stand out here for ever, you know."

Thunder crackled menacingly. The clouds that had, moments ago, been a pure blue, were swirling ominously and growing bleaker, greyer and thicker each second.

"Strange," Danny thought as he looked up. "I've never seen clouds look like that, before…"

His thought was stopped short as he felt an icy chill run up his spine, and along the base of his skull. A small spire of blue smoke crawled lazily out of his mouth, and he gasped.

Mr Lancer looked at him, curiously. "For Pete's sake, Daniel, it's not that cold. Wear a sweater, at least," he told him grumpily.

Danny didn't have time to turn around. He felt a small force collide with his spine, and gasped out again- in pain. Knocked into the door, Danny was pelted with more rain than his friends, who had turned around quickly, immediately assessing the situation. Lancer backed away rapidly, falling sideways as he slipped on a pile of dirty leaves. He was staring at someone behind Danny.

Sam and Tucker's mouths were open. For a split second, Danny watched them instead of turning around and dealing with whoever had snuck up behind him. He noticed a subtle change in the air-subtle, yes, but his body tingled with the force that it took out on his ghost half. The air thickened, the fog swirled around Danny – fog that came out of nowhere – and then he blacked out.

The last thing he saw was his best friends' eyes turning as black as coal. Then something familiar: a shining, ruby red.

Then everything seemed to cease to exist.

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I'm not too pleased with this chapter, I had fun writing it but I think it could be more exciting... please review and help me out here! It's my first fanfic!!! Oh, and constructive criticism would be great, really appreciated, but no flares, thanks. Well, at least those guys/girls bother to read the stories! Anyway, I'm updating in about a week or so... when I get an idea of what to do next! I tend to have writer's blocks when I'm writing anything at all, and I usually give up on them. But I like the way the story is going...Disclaimer... I don't own DP!

I'm writing the next chap as we speak... here is a preview...

It had been a peaceful morning. Not like the past week, though. Sam had just about gone insane when those three goons had appeared again, on the steps to school. She had first thought, "How did they know Danny is… a human?" But then she realised that if word hadn't gotten around yet, then ghosts were pretty quiet most of the time. 

And judging by the six-attacks-a-day for the past week, not to mention the appearances at every hangout that Danny always turned up at, that was definitely ruled out.

That part of the story comes later in the next chappie... but it's a part I've just finished writng... on to the edit-mobile!

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	3. Chapter 3

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Well, here it is... finally! Chp. 3, or, well, I haven't really got names for these types of chapters yet... anyway, you should find out a bit more about what the title is saying... somewhat... anyway, I was writing the original Chp.3, and then I forgot about these guys, so now Chp.3-turned 4 is almost done, so that should be up in a week. By the way, Arravak is a name I made up about some sort of servant who serves, um, Clockwork. Anyway, this is a really short chpater... I think all the CW/AVK scenes should be... :)

Now on with the story...!

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To Keep a Secret

Chapter 3

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"_I demand an explanation!"_

_A little ghost swathed in a purple cape with a hood, angrily wafted over to a tiny baby ghost. The baby was holding a large staff, and appeared to be growing older with every movement. Soon he was an old man, smiling feebly- yet it seemed just a pathetic disguise, for he had an aura of complete control._

"_Would you mind describing the main points of this explanation you demand of me, Arravak?" The ancient being asked, growing new, fluffy white hair as he spoke._

"_Enough of your blather! You know perfectly well what I am talking about!" The little ghost puffed out, his cheeks growing a deep red, contrasting completely to his white, transparent skin._

"_Indeed. I know… everything…"_

"_So would you mind explaining to me how having the boy imprisoned is helping him… at ALL?"_

"_Certainly, as long as I can correct something. The child is not imprisoned, he is-"_

"_Trapped inside his own head, Clockwork!"_

"_Exactly."_

"_But-b-but…" the little ghost stuttered. His eyes showed the confusion. "If the child is... imprisoned… then… anyone could get in!"_

"_They already have."_

"_**What**__? I was sure that… that you wanted to help the boy!"_

_With anger welling up slightly, the now-teenage-looking ghost turned to Arravak._

"_I do not wish to disclose anything, Arravak."_

"_But, master…"_

_The again-old ghost sighed. "Arravak, again, I will tell you only one thing: being 'Imprisoned' is radically different from being 'Trapped'. One, or the other, will mean he is gone forever. The other will have to mean that he will escape. And for the most important information: He will not escape unscathed, if that is the case."_

"_But… if that is not the case, though he does escape, then his secret may be spilled! We cannot afford to have that happen! The elders will remove your position!"_

"_I am more concerned with the present tense, although past is my specialty."_

"_**Time**__ is your specialty."_

"_Exactly." At the last syllable a baby ghost floated out of the wide room, under a sky of suspended clocks, loud ticks, and the ever-growing tunnel of eternity.

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_So, how'd you like it? I have more fun writing the Clockwork/Arravak scenes than the other ones, and flashbacks as well. 

Now I'm at kind of a road block. The next chapter is about what Danny experiences in, uh, his head, I guess, (:s), and Danny's friends POV. (Not 1st tense, though)

Please help me out! Constructive criticism WANTED! NEEDED! PLEASE! Oh, and story ideas too! Thanks! Nyita7

(Thanks to my reviewers, **TPcrazy**, **Artgirl4 **and **goth.one**!!!)


	4. Chapter 4

"There is more to be done

"There is more to be done."

The tinny voice faded out after its aggravated hiss in the wrist-computer.

A massive, armoured figure stepped out from the shadowy streets, the dark depths of an abandoned town. It crossed to the tallest building, and then jumped into the air, igniting strange flame-like jets. Gravity forgot to take hold, and the being glided effortlessly upwards until it reached the pointed spire. An iron-clad fist grasped the smooth stick, and wrenched it upwards; causing several bricks to dislodge and fall clumsily down the side of the building, into the murky waters of the river below.

Instead of succumbing to the same fate as the bricks, the spire stayed put. No matter how much the figure pulled and jerked it, it would not move out. But the person didn't seem to want to make it do that. After each twist and turn a grin broke out on his wide, skeletal face, and he almost seemed to be… laughing.

The creature gave one final tug, and then stepped backwards smartly, preparing for what he surely knew would happen next.

The pointed spire was bending, lazily curling its top over, into the ground. When a bridge was made, it started widening, growing to almost eight feet. The centre of this strip was sinking, churning ominously. The dirty grey ebbed away with each swirl, and was replaced by dancing, ever-growing neon green. Soon the whole spire-turned-bridge had changed into the pulsing emerald, swaying slightly as it started to straighten up again. After only a few long moments, the stick had formed into a huge door.

Quickly and quietly, the person stepped into the strange object as though it were not solid; as though, in fact, it were what it looked like but couldn't possibly be.

But he stepped through it promptly and, again, effortlessly.

The creature didn't turn up at the other side of the rectangle of energy. It appeared instead in a different, desolate area of space, where nothing warm-blooded seemed to live. Tall snake-like weeds broke through the mossy undergrowth, and the trees were shaped like gaunt hands, with dozens of extra fingers.

The creature paid no attention to these things. He strode briskly toward an opening between two of the trees, and clambered through the narrow gap, swearing as some of his plated armour caught on the wire of a fallen, tangled fence.

After completely uprooting the fence, he walked toward a huge mansion that loomed out of nowhere. It was stately, for sure, and had an air of extreme grandeur. The wide oak door shook slightly as one of the creature's fists came out and pounded on it. If anyone standing nearby was watching, which they most certainly weren't, they could see that he was not accustomed to this form of making his presence known. He looked as though barrelling through the door was more to his taste. After a few moments, it opened creakily, and he stepped in.

Someone was waiting for him inside, floating a few inches above the polished floor. His head was comically arranged in two horn-like points, and a red cape was draped, cliché-like, around his shoulders. But there was no smug smile worn about his face, or even an angry grimace, as one may have expected from one wearing outfits such as he was. Instead, a pained expression was spread out, one of extreme loathing. A chill emanated from him, blasting through the cavernous front hall and shaking the pristine curtains and tapestries.

He inclined his head forward, acknowledging the presence. But before he had any time to say a word, however, the caped ghost held up a hand to silence him. Then it glided over, without the assistance of jets on his back. It spoke chillingly to him when two feet away from his face. His lip curled farther downwards, as though regarding the thing as beneath him.

"I spoke to you already," he stated, and started to float away.

Sam and Tucker watched, open-mouthed, as Danny was pulled backwards by two skeletal, eerily transparent female ghosts. His eyes were open, but glazed, telling them that the whack by the shortest of the three ghosts that had appeared, out of thin air, behind him had knocked him out. Sam felt as though time were standing still, though her heart's frantic beating surely cancelled that out.

She didn't move until the ghost holding Danny dropped him to the ground, and heard his head crack on the stone. At the same time she heard a large rustling, and whipped her head around instinctively to see Lancer scrambling out of the pile of leaves he had fallen into, toward the other school doors.

As though a switch had flicked inside of her, Sam felt like two strong hands were pushing her forwards, making her lunge toward Danny and the ghosts. Before making any contact with them, she saw the shortest: a pale, blue ghost with a crew-cut and baggy overalls, glance up at her with a surprised expression on his face, before she felt as though she had slammed into a brick wall. It was worse, though, for instead of her whole body hitting the wall at once, she felt her stomach almost cave in on the ghost's head, and curled over, whacking her head and chest forcefully on the ghost's back.

_Was… was that a shield? No, they're rounder_… she thought, her brain whirring frantically as it tried to register what had just happened.

She crumpled off the ghost and fell on the ground, winded, feeling foolish for trying to ram the ghost in the head. She felt a tingling in her hand, and remembered as she glanced there: she had been holding an Ecto-Stinger. The small rod-like object was shaking from side to side mechanically, trying to detect the nearest ghost to shock with a buzz and, temporarily, paralyze. The three had rarely used them after they had found out that it didn't matter whether the ghost in question was a halfa or not… even if the said halfa was in human form. Jack and Maddie Fenton, for a few weeks following the discovery of the Stinger, had figured that Danny was extraordinarily tired all the time because of pressure at school. Whenever Jack would raise the Stinger to show that he had, truly, perfected it, Sam and Tucker were 'posted' at 14-day successive sleepovers, trying to wake Danny up whenever he fell unconscious. He also had several scars from the buzzing.

Sam could see them now, reflected eerily by a flash of lightning that dampened her hair. His shirt had been pulled at by one of the female ghosts, and she saw, larger than before, jagged scars and burns patterning his chest. Many were new: she could see once dried bubbles of oddly dark green blood dribbling out; the ghost had unintentionally scraped at them. She swore under her breath and looked wildly around for Tucker, her head still on the damp grass, her vision blurred by the rain falling, faster, and faster…

Then she saw him. He had another Ecto-Stinger in his hand, flailing it wildly in all the wrong directions. She could see it twitching, trying to escape his grasp, itching to get at the three ghosts, who were now staring at his eccentric movement, while the slumped teen lay momentarily forgotten. She sat up quickly, the world spinning slightly, the rain becoming one ocean… then tightened her grip on the Stinger, and carefully aiming… before she threw it at one of the taller ghosts.

It screeched out in pain and shock as the Stinger whacked the small point of its back. The ragged hair whipped around, slapping it in the face with more water, soaking the see-through skin which was not, apparently, intangible. Then it stiffened unnaturally- Sam had seen this countless times with Danny- and fell backwards. Its back plopped onto the wet dirt; almost comically. Lolling about in a daze, the head rolled towards Sam. Its eyes opened for the last time in what was most definitely going to be at least four hours, and, in the short space of time before they snapped shut again, locked on Sam's.

In those few moments, before the watery face dropped onto the soaking muddy grass, Sam was hooked like a fish to the bait. She felt a pulling sensation, focusing directly on her consciousness, grasping it, tightening its unconscious grip onto that strand of reality- and pulling, harder, faster, with ever-increasing strength. The force made her almost double back, but she still held on, mesmerized, staring into the depths of those… those soulful eyes. Full of sorrow… she wanted to _help_ the person who the eyes were made to see from… she wanted to relieve them of their burden, help free them of their annoying aches… aid them in _whatever they bid her to do_- she could hear, in the distance, cries… calling her name… her name? She- she didn't need one… she had to give all she had to these beautiful, sinking pits… the eyes were her only grasp to life, she could feel what was left draining away… with complete loyalty, as she knew that this strange, iridescent, beautifully carved pair of eyeballs was taking it from her… she needed it so badly… _needed to help_… her willpower was almost gone…

The head flopped onto the grass suddenly, landing with a comical plop on the soggy mounds. The contact was broken.

Sam found herself kneeling on the ground, her elbows shaking with the effort of, unconsciously, restraining herself to the eyes. She felt her heart beating so much faster than a few minutes before… each second it seemed to speed up more. Closing her eyes to the steady fall of rain, she felt her breath coming in ragged gasps that shook her whole body as she tried to register what had happened.

No hypnotism had taken her in like this before- she had not experienced what most of Amity had when Ember had come to town last year… her ear phones had helped with that. So she had not really felt any familiarity in the pull... but without even former experience, she could tell that this hypnosis was much, much stronger than anything Ember could pull off.

And it was most definitely hypnosis.

What scared Sam most was, not the fact that she had almost been taken under the creature's power, but the whole speed in which the incident had occurred- surely only a few seconds, at most! The woman had only glanced at her- a quick, fleeting look, and she immediately felt that she had been under it for minutes at a time… she could have taken Sam in completely if her head had just stayed up that last second. The power was immense… and, if Sam felt rightly… she could tell that that small look was only a little of the woman's power. Whether she knew it or not, the woman had a lot of power bubbling up inside of her, waiting to be let out, almost as though it had been locked down, or, even- ignored, it's potential completely passed by. Although it seemed impossible, Sam could almost feel deep, hidden anger- anger for being pushed aside?

Sam had no more time to dwell on this matter. For as soon as she managed to calm down her fragile body, and crawl barely one shuffle towards Danny's crumpled form- that the crew-cut man turned around, his once grey and harmless-looking eyes a deep, boiling-over red. He uttered a small cry and he saw the form of one of the women on the ground, so Sam realised that he must have been avoiding the Stinger to notice what she had actually been doing with it.

He roared, a high, almost female war-cry, and started zooming towards Sam, locking in on his target with fury etched on the scarlet pupils.

Sam cowered, then curled up in the few feet before he jumped on her, forcing his obvious ability to be able to crush her onto the impending girl- and rolled away, causing what was surely a miniature earthquake to pound the earth with its sonic blast. Bits of dripping grass still connected to small clumps of mud rained over Sam's head as she crawled out of the rather pathetic roll, itching towards Danny.

She felt something small and pointy wriggle out of her hand. Her heart sped up, wondering what the heck _that_ was, then relaxed again, as she realised, through wet strands of hair sticking over her eyes, that the green glow of the Ecto-Stinger was whizzing towards the still-reeling-after-its-crash ghost. Wincing slightly, as she looked up at where Tucker was still doing his dance, she silently thanked him. What she had believed (and, apparently, so had the other woman ghost) was just Tucker's clumsy and foolish way, usually dangerous, of fighting ghosts hands-on, was really just an obvious (to all but the two conscious females there) way of being a distraction. He saw her looking, and, stupidly, gave her a thumbs-up. The ghost whipped her head around, just as a shriek echoed across the lawn. She knew it must be the male ghost, the one the Stinger had zoomed straight to. The woman turned, distracted, at what was happening, but Sam held on to her remaining strength and jumped at the ghost's legs, wrapping her elbows around them and squeezing tightly.

She felt the ghost topple, and her head almost split in two, and then Tucker's triumphant yell as he jammed the Stinger into the woman, where it dissolved into the fleshy back, using all of its energy to subdue this struggling female.

She heard a lid being popped open, and the click as a burst of white light shone on the outside of her closed eyelids. The presence of the body lying very still next to her had vanished, and, almost as if by magic, she felt the others go as well.

Feeling it safe to open her eyes, she did so, catching a glimpse of the ghosts being sucked into the swirling white energy. As she saw the remaining tendrils get swept up by the Thermos' suction - it could have been her imagination- several streaks of blood-red light was pushed, swirling, out of the Thermos, before Tucker snapped the lid back on. It must have been the light, certainly… why else would the few wisps she was sure she had seen escape into nothingness? _Why_…?

"Tu-Tuck!" Sam spluttered, aware that it was her first recognisable word since they had been unceremoniously greeted by the ghouls.

"Some- some fight, huh?" he replied, his eyes roving over Sam's face. It was only then, as she saw her best friend's eyes widen considerably at her face, that she felt the pain. It seared though her skin, as though she was getting the cuts and bruises she could feel there only just then.

Tucker drew his eyes away from her face, wishing that he a tissue- heck, a sweaty wristband, something to mop up the dribbling blood. Then he started, and jumped a bit before rushing toward Danny, temporarily forgotten. He bent over his friend's still form.

"What were they doing to him?" Sam asked, rushing behind him, and then kneeling next to Danny's wrist, scrabbling for signs of life.

"What doesn't every ghost in the ghost world want with the halfa?" Tucker replied bitterly, spitting out the syllables of 'doesn't'. "Revenge, most likely."

"I found a pulse… it's weak, though…"

"It's always been weak… well, since freshman year. Since the accident. And when he's a ghost, there's nothing, he said," Tucker started, chewing his lip.

"Maybe we should get him into the school. The nurse's office?"

"No way, Danny' parents might get called, we don't want everyone knowing about the ghosts-"

"_What the hell_, Tuck?" Sam almost screamed at him. "You really think that everyone hasn't seen these ghosts out here? We probably made a_ little_ bit of a mess."

They surveyed the scene. The mini earthquake had caused a great hole to appear in the ground, and almost entirely uprooted a tree, some branches of which were poking into the open windows of a bright yellow parked car. The grass looked as though a hundred elephants had tromped all over it, not to mention using it for, erm, facilities, and what was worse, as they looked towards the building, there wasn't a single window without a face looking through it, gawking at the grass below. And at Tucker and Sam, and Danny's limp form.

Tucker glanced at Sam. She looked back, saying quietly, "Sorry, Tuck. About being sharp. I- I just- heck, lets get Danny inside before it floods."

They each grabbed Danny under the arms, and hauled him up to their shoulders, his feet dragging on the ground, into Casper High. Neither of them noticed his mouth, open slightly already, widen a little as a pale pink stream of smoke force his lips open, and disappear, writhing, down his throat. But both of them felt the shiver that passed through Danny's body as that happened, and they quickened their pace, not knowing what- or who- it could be.

Some of the faces above them were almost petrified with shock.

"I am not here for further instructions," the larger figure said, his tone gravely. "I came to tell you that the mission was not… fully… a success."

"I must say, I expected no more."

"Well, they tried, but those humans are too much of an assistance. Perhaps if they could be, properly, disposed of-"

"_No_, you foolish scrap of metal! If we rid the ghost of his accomplices, then how are we too experience our revenge sweetly enough?"

"But, sir, the three have not been successful…"

"-and that is not my problem, it is _theirs_. For success, there must be pitfalls. Mere obstacles which fade in time…"

"But, sir, they were captured. They cannot do more, now-"

"_Enough!_"

The larger ghost shrank back slightly, as though expecting a blow. He wasn't disappointed. A neon flash of pink light and the awful screech of something scraping along metal rebounded through the cavernous room. The caped figure was seething slightly, his eyes simply black, ominous pits on either side of his nose.

The larger creature was on the ground, one side of his armour slashed with a great black burn, but he had an air of stiffness about him, as though he were accustomed to such treatment. He got up quickly, and adjusted one of the many computers screens now beeping methodically on his arms.

He glanced at a screen, then back up at the raven head, now calmed down and looking as though for all the world nothing had happened. Then he looked back at the screen. "Plasmius… I think… it says… they cannot- they cannot get out!"

The floating vampire turned his head slowly, acknowledging the metal-clad ghost. Then he whipped out a hand, and outstretched the fingers on it, sending a small burst of light speeding towards the green screen. It hit its target with a _thwack_ and the screen was left with a gaping hole, filled with broken wires emitting sparks. A fizzling noise was coming out from the now slightly smoking computer, and Skulker's mouth dropped open slightly, surprised at the sudden motion. Plasmius coughed slightly, and he looked up, his flaming green hair rippling faster than usual.

"I did say," muttered the caped ghost. "There is more to be done."

The broken equipment beeped out last, resounding notes, in a tone that only the half robot-ghost could understand.

_The mission is still strong… I have secured our path to the glory!_

Then it died out, and the robot looked up at the vampire. He was floating away; shaking his fingers a little to get rid of several hanging sparks. _Just you wait_… He thought solemnly, wrenching off the broken technology. _Just you wait_…

**There are probably a few mistakes in here that I didn't intend to make… because my computer wouldn't let me edit it actually online, so I had to do it all here, and I had some problems and nothing would save and yeah…**

**Well, this took me a couple of weeks to write, actually, because I've been so busy with schoolwork, and badminton practice and etc. that I've only managed to do stuff on the weekends. So I guess that's actually about five, or six days, counting Easter weekend… hmm…**

**Well, I hope you enjoy this new chapter, and if any mistakes are there, please review and tell me about them! Also…**

**1) Is there interest lost anywhere?**

**2) Plot gone amiss? Characters wavering from originals?**

**3) Any other constructive criticism you can help assist me by criticising… um… to me?**

**Thanks for getting this far! Nyita7**


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